Monsters & Men- Revival
by Quirky Circuit
Summary: Events are set in motion that will collide the lives of several young strangers and their talented Pokémon.
1. Chapter 1

"Immovable Object"

This would be his most difficult task. Greg snapped his stiff fingers and rubbed those sweaty palms of his against the thighs of his jeans. The young boy of fifteen years dug the heels of his shoes into the loose dirt that surrounded him. He planted himself firmly, he was one with the earth. Greg tracked his breathing, steadied himself, all the while watching the target's mass rise and fall; Placid.

Greg threw his upper body against the wall of thick, heavy fat that was his Snorlax. The big guy's name was Louie, and he hadn't moved from the backyard in a week. Louie simply refused to wake up. With a large paw, he swatted Greg away like a fly. It wasn't painful or threatening, it was simply Louie being Louie. The Snorlax was the oldest Pokemon in his home, and he was the most stubborn.

As an only child, Greg found comfort and friendship from the Pokemon in his home, especially that of his own Pokemon, a black Charizard. A companion since Greg was the tender age of five, in a way they had grown and evolved together. Snorlax was from before Greg was even conceived, a Pokemon that belonged to his father, Nathan Hughes. Those were tales from another time, though, was all Greg ever heard when he curiously questioned his father's past. It was best left there, Nathan would remark.

Nathan also said Snorlax was best left alone, but he desperately needed a bath, and none of the hoses from the garage stretched out this far into the yard. And they certainly had a large yard, Nathan was a popular berry farmer. This meant he was quite wealthy, and kept his family comfortable. Currently, Greg was not comfortable, he was hot, sweaty, and smelled something like a Snorlax that had just dug itself out from a week in a garbage bin.

He groaned, placing his full force against the weight of the behemoth. Greg's lower back twitched and tickled with sprays from the stress and pain of his efforts.

"Come on, you big fat fatty," he huffed through gritted teeth.

Alas, he found himself against an immovable object. Greg spun on his heels and threw his back against Louie, and then carelessly slid down along it. The boy propped his arms on his raised knees and surveyed his surroundings; there was a good sized boulder, and planks of wood from the new fence that Nathan was soon to construct. Greg cocked his eyebrow mischievously.

"Huh…."

Greg eagerly rolled the smooth boulder toward Louie, who hadn't even batted his eyes from such a minor annoyance. The boy inspected the rock, it looked like the right spot. He sprinted off again, this time returning with a long plank of wood. See where this is going?

It always worked in the cartoons.

Carefully, Greg inspected the wood, measuring it for a perfect resting balance on the rock, he was eyeballing it. Hoping Lou wouldn't notice, Greg slowly, with each deliberate push, attempted to snugly fit one end of the plank beneath the Snorlax's bulbous body. It wasn't going in. Greg growled and finally shoved it in really hard and fast; Success!

Greg slapped his hands together and dusted them off proudly. He then stretched out his body, loosening up those stiff limbs. He placed both hands on the raised end of the plank and jumped into the air, falling back to the earth he brought the plank down with him.

SNAP!

The plank shattered in half, with the end Greg was holding smacking him square in the face and hurling the boy off his feet. Greg landed in the grass on his back and didn't move. He simply laid there, beneath the shade of a large, beautiful tree… Wait, there wasn't a tree, so what was the shadow from?

Her long neck bent down and licked Greg across his eyes. It was Maple, his tropius. "Yuck," Greg mouthed as he pulled up his shirt and wiped off his face. Slowly sitting up, Greg watched Maple casually stroll away.

"Don't just watch!" Greg shouted. "At least gimme a hand!"

Greg gestured widely with his arms, dramatizing the actual mass of Louie. Had the Snorlax been awake he may have been insulted. He dropped his arms as if they suddenly became goo and stared intently at Lou. He thought the beast might wake up by sub-consciously recognizing he was being given the stink eye. This lasted for perhaps a good half hour.

Nothing came from it.

He sighed heavily, loudly, maybe Lou would hear. He didn't. Greg looked around again; sleeping comfortably beneath an actual tree was Bastiodon, his head a massive steel wall, the pokemon was like a bulldozer in flesh and blood. Or, maybe steel and blood. Steel ran along the Bastiodon's spine; each massive foot, there were four, was covered in steel growths. Like super protective socks. This was his ticket.

"You're turn, Asner," Greg said to his bastiodon.

Greg pushed at the beast's large rump, disturbing Asner from his slumber. A low, thick growl escaped his stomach and his eyes slowly blinked themselves open. Asner turned his head back to find Greg shoving against his butt. The bastiodon tilted his head awkwardly, shook his butt to throw Greg off, and finally stood up.

Greg pointed at Louie. Asner sighed. He shook his head hard, this time waking up the small pokemon that had found safe haven behind his shield of a head. A group of white furred Pachirisu were startled and scurried back into their tree, while Greg's lone Pichu, her name was Debbie, just popped up her head with its tousled fur and observed her guardian, Asner, curiously.

"Immovable object," -hey, there's our chapter title- "meet unstoppable force," Greg declared as Asner lumbered toward Lou.

Asner struck his foot to the dirt several times, powering up his charge. Finally he released, barreling at Lou like he was bullet fired from a pistol. He shot across the yard at incredible speed, with Debbie swinging from his head, hanging on for dear life.

SMASH!

The bastiodon rammed into Lou, whose thick fat erupted in a wave of unrest, like the ripples of an ocean. Lou's fat eventually calmed down, but Asner was still barreling forward. Unfortunately to no avail. Lou hadn't even budged.

Greg got behind Asner and started pushing his butt again.

"Don't you dare fart," Greg whispered.

Debbie released her death grip and relaxed, she decided to observe all this ridiculous commotion. It was simply Louie sleeping. She hopped off Asner and plopped onto Lou's jiggly tummy, slowly sinking into it like jello. Debbie scrambled to claw her way out in desperation, scared she would suffocate in the layers of fat were she to be caught.

But something unexpected happened as Deb pulled herself out; Snorlax started to move, and a slow, hearty giggle escaped his lips.

Greg poked his head out from behind Asner's butt. He cocked his eyebrow curiously. Standing to his feet Greg walked over to Lou and watched Debbie stroll her way across the Snorlax's body; she was tickling him awake!

"Hold up, buddy," Greg said to Asner. The boy laid his palm on Asner's head and petted him lovingly. "Good job."

Asner plopped down to the ground next to Greg, and slowly drifted off to sleep. Greg chuckled. Debbie stopped and looked at Greg.

He shrugged and flipped his hands out in a surrendering gesture.

Debbie deliberately stretched out her furry tail and strolled across Lou's stomach, his ticklish part. The giggles eventually turned into excited, roaring howls of laughter. Lou's massive paws hammered into the ground uncontrollably, scaring Debbie away. But it was no matter; Lou was awake!

The Snorlax rose into a sitting position, his upper body rocking like an ill-weighted tower. He looked at Greg, annoyed.

"Bath time," Greg said.

Lou groaned. But he obliged, diligently pulling himself to his feet. Lou swayed when he stood and Greg was terrified the beast may fall on him. Greg laid his hands on the pokemon's massive belly. "You okay?" he asked. Louie nodded. He had been off his legs and sleeping for quite a while, but Lou would have a clear head by the time he reached the house.

Greg smiled, and then his eyes trailed down to the depression Lou left in the earth. There were cracks and broken clumps of dirt falling into the hole. That was bizarre. He kneeled down to inspect Lou's "bed". Greg's index finger traced over the cracks and he suddenly felt cool, dry air blowing between the seams. Using his finger still, Greg shaped it like a hook and dug in, chipping away at the loose grounds.

It collapsed!

The boy fell back on his bottom in a burst of surprise. The hole gasped as the last chunks of earth disappeared into the shadows. It gave way to an incredible discovery. Greg stood up and raked his hand through his tousled brown hair. His mouth agape; a massive underground complex, perhaps a cave, perhaps something more, was hidden away beneath Greg's home.

"How about that."

….To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

"Intertwined"

Gregory Hughes was fooling around in his massive front yard on the day that his best friend, Stane, had returned from defeating the eighth gym leader of the Unova region; he was well on his way to becoming the local champion, the talk of the town, its pride and shining star of a celebrity. And while all the news articles were flattering, it was Stane's passion, the competition.

The Hughes family owned a large portion of land outside Icirrus City, where they were renown for their berry farming. Nathan, Greg's father, was a secretive man, even before Greg was born he moved his prosperous business from some other region to Unova, where it attracted tourists from around the world, all clamoring for a bushel of his famous berries.

That was how Greg and Stane became friends, honestly it was like they knew each other even before they were born, while still in their mother's wombs. They had become inseparable as friends, but their priorities had shifted, the stars rarely aligned for opportunity to get together anymore. It was a shame.

As Stane was approaching, he observed the three housekeepers leaving oddly early for a weekend, he wondered what was up. Could Greg be going out of town again? Stifling any chances to hang out. Then Stane's brown eyes caught Greg sprinting across the swaying, damp green grass, clutched in his hand a round, red frisbee.

"Pull!" Greg shouted, hurling the frisbee into the air.

From behind the house a black silhouette emerged, having bolted from the ground as if it were a rocket, its wings struck open like a sound of thunder, and he plowed forward over the home's roof; it was Chance! This was Greg's shiny Charizard.

The massive dragon fell into an elaborate spin, catching the gusts of wind beneath its belly, he arched up and shot a fireball into empty space. Stane assumed the lizard wasn't quite up to snuff, but he was mistaken; Chance's timing and aim impeccable, the bolt of fire struck the frisbee as it fell into its final dive, blowing it away into tiny, charred bits.

"Crazy white boy," Stane muttered as he reached Greg's side.

Greg tightened his palm into a fist, just as Stane did, and the two bumped their fists together in the oft repeated gimmick the two had picked up as children.

Chance landed in a heavy thud, knocking his head against Greg's own, the two companions had a greeting all their own, too. Greg rubbed his palm along Chance's back, petting him, then scratching at the awkward spot between the charizard's wings, which almost always turned the powerful beast into jelly.

Stane remembered when he and Greg were but five years old, and Nathan had brought home an egg from one of his global trips, a gift for his son. To even consider it would have been shiny, not just rare for its home region, but a mythical sight just here in Unova, it never crossed their minds. And Greg had raised him well, to a powerful, courageous charizard, and he had never even seen a battle. But the flame on his tail told a different story, it burned hotter than even one of Stane's darmanitan's attacks. That was passion.

Greg smiled slyly at Stane as the almost black charizard sprawled out on the healthy lawn.

"Man, you're just jealous that Chance is more black than you," Greg remarked playfully.

Stane flicked his tongue against the top of his mouth and made a flicking noise. He looked away and crossed his arms. Greg laughed.

"What are you doing here?" Greg wondered.

"Thought I'd stop by before heading to the League!" Stane exclaimed.

"You made it?" Greg asked.

Stane nodded his head in confirmation.

"Sweet," Greg said cheerfully as he forcefully pulled his trapped foot out from Chance's wrapped arms, the charizard had fell asleep on him.

"I wanted you to be there fighting with me, Greg," Stane reminded. "I wish you would've started this thing with me."

"Stane, lay off," Greg replied, gesturing with a wave of his hand. "I don't want to fight pokemon."

"But why? Your dad did!" Stane argued.

"My dad was a Ranger," Greg corrected. "Don't get snippy."

Greg and Stane had strolled to the home's patio, where the two best friends sit down at the steps of the front porch. It was such an impressive home; two massive trees planted on either side of the stone path, one tree closer to the home, shading the porch, the other further down, they even grew apples. The backyard was even more incredible, the actual yard was fenced off from the berry field, which seemed to go on for acres.

Stane was a city boy, he never quite grasped the isolation Greg found comfort in, it was just odd. Stane loved the city, he had friends… Okay, Greg was his only friend, but he did have more acquaintances then Greg; who seemed content in such a quiet, uneventful life.

"Then what are you going to be?" Stane asked.

Greg simply shrugged. "I dunno- I just don't know what I'm suppose to do."

A lightbulb clicked before Greg finally slapped Stane on the shoulder. "Happy belated birthday!" Greg wished.

Stane's birthday was in March, but he was gone after those League badges, and it was the end of April now! Stane had turned sixteen. Greg was next, he was going to be sixteen in June.

"And already a pokemon legend," Stane added.

"Happy to see none of this has gone to your head," Greg said with a witty smile.

Suddenly the front door opened, and out walked Nathan and his wife, Greg's mother, Katherine.

"Please be good," Katherine said, kissing her son on the forehead.

"We'll be back in the morning," Nathan stated, rubbing his hand through his son's hair.

Greg held up an open palm. "Bye."

So it wasn't Greg who was leaving, just his parents, that was why the housekeepers were going so early.

"So you can come with me!" Stane said excitedly, his mouth getting ahead of his thoughts.

Greg cocked an eyebrow curiously. "What?"

"I thought you all might be leaving," Stane explained. "But you can come with me to the league now."

"I don't want to come with you," Greg argued. "I just don't care to watch the little guys beat the snot out of each other. And there's always way too many people at those things." Greg shivered uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry, do you have other plans?" Stane asked.

"Yes," Greg answered. "I need to bathe Louie. And it's almost a day's trek to get to the league from here."

"I think the big guy could wait a few more days," Stane argued.

"Well, he can't," Greg answered. "The smell is awful."

"There's a whole world waiting, Mister Hughes," Stane said, standing to his feet.

"It'll still be there after Lou's bath," Greg huffed out.

Stane smiled. "I guess it will." The friend waved goodbye to Greg.

"Good luck," Greg shouted.

"There's no such thing," Stane remarked.

"Oh, suck it!" Greg insulted.

Stane spun on his heel, looking forward; his greatest challenge awaited him; The Elite Four, and then the champion!

….To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 3

"Anomalous Study"

The sun had just started to rise over the black tiled roof of the Hughes quaint little home. Casting an eerie shadow along their backyard. Blotches of sunshine pierced through gray clouds that were left behind from the late night showers over Icirrus City and its massive farm lands, leaving the grass glistening from dampness. When Greg peeked out his bedroom window and into the backyard, he did not observe the sparkling beauty of the land, nor the faint rainbow and all its glorious color, no, his blue-gray eyes narrowed on the red tarp he had laid over the hole, covering his greatest discovery;

The labyrinth.

His chores had kept him busy the day before, and by the time freedom sprang forth, he was spent, it was dark out, and it had started to rain. Greg rushed to protect his hole and sealed it away beneath the red tarp his father kept in the garage. And with a new day dawning, opportunity presented itself. There was still time before his parents came home, and a mischievous grin stretched across his face.

Greg was going to play today.

While Stane fought through the Elite Four to reach the champion and demand her title, Greg was going to be unearthing the greatest secrets of Icirrus City. He didn't exactly know just what those secrets were, but when an isolated farm house is discovered to have some crazy labyrinth structure buried beneath it, well the conspiracy nuts come out to play. Could this be connected to the UFO crash from more than fifty years ago? Perhaps an army of elgyem had squatted here, made a home for themselves. Whatever it was, Greg was going to find out.

He dressed quickly, throwing on an old shirt and pants, then rushing to the patio where he had left his muddy shoes. Sliding them over feet Greg comfortably found his way outside.

"Debbie," he called inside the house. He repeated himself a few times before finally stirring the little pichu from her sleep.

Her ears twitched and danced as Greg called. A light groan purred across her lips as Debbie stretched out her tiny limbs and flexed her little fingers. She pawed at her bed, attempting to pull up enough cushion to produce another pillow of sorts for head, but it was to avail. The boy just kept calling and disturbing her. Sparks flittered across her cheeks as the young pichu was forced to remove herself from the comforts of her bed. It was far too early for this.

Debbie planted her front paws on the wood flooring of the living room and shivered; it was awfully chilly. Then she hiked her back leg over and off the bed, then the other, and awkwardly stretched herself out as she tiredly made the trek to the boy.

A heavy yawn stretched open Debbie's mouth, revealing her sharp canines that twinkled as she strolled through the rays of sun beaming in from the windows. She squinted her eyes as she neared the back door, only able to see Greg's faint outline, her eyes hadn't completely adjusted.

The boy knelt down and rubbed his hand over Debbie's back, she arched it in response. It made her sleepy. The pichu curved her body around Greg's arm, then between his legs, before eventually finding her way outside and on the home's patio. She assumed it was her time for a walk.

She was mistaken. Looking up at Greg, she noticed two incredibly odd things about the boy; in one hand was a rope, in the other, that charmingly attractive camera she loved to play with. What was this boy doing?

"I have an idea," Greg said with a wide grin.

Debbie was nervous.

And she had every right to be; come to find out Greg couldn't make the hole any larger, and as it was, it could only fit something about as big as a pikachu. Greg had the next best thing; a smaller, but equally adorable, some would say more so, pichu.

Debbie had been fastened inside a harness jacket, something that people may have used to walk a lillipup with, then the rope was tied to one of the loops on her jacket's back. Finally, Greg had shaped together a rather snazzy, and completely sealed, breast pocket onto the harness. In this he would put his camera, which was already on and recording.

Luckily this camera was nothing like Greg's other equipment. It was rather small and flat, obviously or else it wouldn't have been able to fit in the pocket. And since the pocket was transparent he hoped the recording came out smooth and actually viewable.

Asner, Debbie's guardian, was dismayed, he didn't like the idea of sending the young pichu into the cave. His massive head nudged and prodded at her, making her assure him that she would be safe. Debbie laid her small body against the bastiodon's bulldozer of a head, her arms weren't even able to remotely wrap around him. Her fur tickled Asner's nostrils and he huffed out a powerful gust of wind, nearly knocking pichu off her feet. She shook her head and giggled.

Greg's head was inside the hole, with one arm snuggly tucked in with it, a flashlight turned on and carefully angled was held tightly in the boy's palm; what he saw was faint, and a whole lot of nothing. It looked like a sturdy, steel rooftop. As if a completely unique structure had been built and buried here. But he couldn't reach to touch and personally inspect it. It went on for at least four meters, if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The boy was renown for his overactive imagination.

He struggled for a moment, but Greg managed to pull himself out of the hole and upright once again. His head was spinning from the sudden rush of blood and for a second he thought he would tip over. With the sickness clear and his head no longer in a daze, Greg turned around on his knees to face Debbie. She peered up at him with low hanging ears.

Greg hold up the end of the rope he was holding.

"Remember; if anything happens, jolt the line," he told her. "I promise I'll get you outta there."

She simply nodded solemnly.

Pichu carefully walked toward toward the hole and peeked her head over the down, her eyes scanning the dusty cave. It looked harmless enough, she supposed. Greg smiled awkwardly and patted Debbie softly on the back.

"You'll be fine," he said.

Greg carefully started to rappel Debbie down the dark, dank cave. The little pichu's feet bouncing against the inner wall of the hole as she made her descent. As Greg sighed heavily, Asner approached and steadied himself, fixated on the dwindling mouse inside the cave.

"She'll be fine," Greg repeated, to the chagrin of Asner. Was the boy trying to assure himself or his friend, the bastiodon couldn't tell.

There was a sudden loosening of the rope and Greg quickly snatched up his flashlight. He and Asner looked inside and, standing on the assumed steel roof, was Debbie. Asner breathed a sigh of relief. Debbie flicked out a thumbs up and Greg pointed to the right.

"Head toward the drop off," he shouted, and pellets of dirt and rock fell in response.

Asner growled at him and nudged his arm.

"Sorry," Greg said sincerely. Perhaps he shouldn't be so loud.

Debbie nodded her head in confirmation and carefully navigated along the creaking roof. It felt frail and weak for something that appeared so strong and heavy. Outward appearances could be deceiving, whatever lay inside had been broken and left to ruin and rot.

While pichu had expected an unyielding darkness, she was pleasantly surprised by the brief, flickering glint of artificial light coming from beyond the structure's edge. Perhaps this excursion wouldn't be so terrible. Slowly still, Debbie proceeded closer to the edge.

She reached the shattered, immediate drop off and realized it was not where the building originally ended, it had been ripped in half, shredded and chunked aside like worthless cheese. Its innards splayed about for her to see; a lab of some kind, with strange devices and monitoring tools, one monitoring device in particular still ran.

Debbie leaned further over the tattered edge, hoping to see what this faint, blinking monitor found itself attached to. Another creak, and the edge started to lean defiantly, as if the secrets here dare not allow Debbie to bear witness to them.

The mousey pichu started to slide forward, her soft paws grappling against the sheet of metal coming undone beneath her. The metal snapped and fell violently inside the lab. Debbie hung on to it like a surf board until it crashed into a seal and threw the little pichu smack into the glass casings of a strange, two meter tall capsule.

Yellow hairs on Debbie's back spiked in a frightened panic at the sight inside the capsule, and she unleashed a thundering wave of electricity that arched and exploded around her as it trailed along and up the rope.

A burst of energy from the capsule flung Debbie back and rattled the complex's last steady pillars away. The great discovery was collapsing! Little pichu had upset elements beyond her comprehension.

Dangling awkwardly, desperately trying to climbing the rope but getting caught in an endless spin, Debbie was relieved when the rope yanked back. She was swiftly ascending the lab as its last remnants decayed around her. A few bumps and bruises along the way, she looked upward as the sun blinded her. She was free!

Metal and earth spewed from the hole just as Debbie pounced into Greg's arms and knocked him off his feet. When he landed squarely on his bottom, Debbie took off for the house, camera and harness still attached to her.

Greg groaned and look at Asner with a careful smirk.

"See; told you she'd be fine."

He groaned as he raised himself back to his feet, the tremors that had been set up dazed him initially, but he was thankful that Debbie made it out safe and safe, and- Wait! The recording! Stumbling to his feet, Greg jumped and started to sprint after pichu when he was halted dead in his tracks.

At the patio door; Mom was holding Debbie, dad had the camera.

"What have you done?" Nathan asked.

His son stood there, filthy, shaken with static electricity, but behind him was a more perilous disaster; I-beam girders protruded from the sunken patch of land on Nathan's backyard. His home had been terribly violated, but at what cost?

Greg shrugged.

….To Be Continued


	4. Chapter 4

"Alignment"

Rosa, this young woman was Unova's current champion, she had beaten Iris, the great dragon tamer! The trials along Victory Road had only pumped Stane up for the battle he had still to endure. His pokemon were ready and able, and he was proud to stand with them here, today. The Elite Four had fallen, and Stane was down to Lightyear, his electivire.

All that remained of Rosa's team was her samurott; this battle was going to be a cinch, Lightyear had the type advantage. The open, domed ceiling shined the rays of sunlight into the ring, illuminating the dusty, worn caverns that the quiet Rosa had transformed into her prized arena. Soon, though, it would be Stane's.

The samurott was no slouch, it immediately went to task on Lightyear, ramming its horn directly into the electivire's thick, furry belly. The bumblebee striped pokemon snatched his massive paws on the samurott's head, and prepared a charge attack. Rosa narrowed her eyes, watching as the samurott quickly lifted his head, unleashing a water cannon attack that hurled Lightyear against one of the stone pillars. Cracks filtered out along the stone as the electivire slumped to the ground.

"Come on, Lightyear," Stane whispered, gritting his teeth.

Stane's pokemon shook his head, escaping the confusion the attack had left him with, and just barely managed to jump away from the samurott's tackle, no doubt intended to put an end to the fight, and cement Rosa's victory. But it was not meant to be. When Lightyear found solid ground, he charged forward with a volt tackle.

But the whole arena started to shake, an earthquake! Tremors shifted the columns, releasing slabs of stone onto the battleground, that the samurott and Lightyear deftly maneuvered around. Rosa tensed, and Stane's face contorted into panic; would she call off the battle.

"We go on!" Rosa shouted.

Stane pumped his fist in excitement and nodded toward his electivire. Whatever the tremor was, it would just be part of the audition he was putting on for the league, at this point he was certain to gain endorsements.

The tremors continued only for another two minutes longer, evolving the desperate battle for championship into one of concentrated efforts; if it wasn't a pokemon hammering toward you, it was a slab of concrete from the domed ceiling. In a heated battle like this, two minutes felt like an eternity.

As the quake calmed, the arena's layout had altered, forcing Lightyear to adapt to a setting he hadn't been trained for. Like an ape, the electivire used his thick, powerful arms to navigate along the fallen debris, like a game of frogger. He scanned for the samurott, who had disappeared into the clouds of dust and dirt.

Stane nearly hopped out of his skin when both he and his pokemon were startled by the emergence of samurott; just as Lightyear bounded over another slab, Rosa's companion thrust itself from the ground, piercing Lightyear's chest and knocking the wind right out of him.

Stane watched helplessly as Lightyear fell to the ground and rolled along the arena like a tipped barrel, his arms flailing about. Had this been the nail in the coffin, would Lightyear faint here, so close to the championship? Stane bit his lip tautly.

Rosa was a blank slate, not even a drip of sweat fell along her furrowed brow. She was like a statue, one of the greatest opponents Stane ever had the pleasure of fighting. He would take that as reward enough, to come so close, he would not leave here empty. But even then, there was still promise, still hope.

"Come on," Stane muttered.

The dust only just started to settle, and samurott found a moment of repose. There were no cries of battle, no roars from the weakened electivire, so it was a chance to gain perspective, store energy. Lightyear was like a freight train, he suddenly came bursting through the chunk of concrete as if it were paper, slamming into samurott with enough brute force to toss Rosa's pokemon across the arena.

Sparks of of golden electricity emitted from Lightyear's body, his fur spiking straight out along his spine from the current coursing through his body. He was overcharged, but this wouldn't last long. Samurott attempted to attack, but it was paralyzed from touching the fired up electivire! He embarrassingly tripped over his fins and shot along the floor like a bullet.

Lightyear pounded the ground like a mad ape, he was excited, this was his time to exploit the opponent's weakness! He hopped across a discarded boulder and slung out his long, powerful arm, snatching the samurott up by its back and raising the pokemon above his head.

Stane and Rosa observed in silent awe as Lightyear called down a powerful thunderbolt that coursed through his body, and released along his arm and out samurott, exploding like thunder in the sky above. After the brutal attack, Lightyear swayed tiredly, dropping samurott simply because his arms had been reduced to noodles.

He was about to faint, and Stane knew it, just as samurott tried to raise himself to his feet. Who would fall first?

Samurott's body shook as he pulled himself up, Stane was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood at this point; he felt the skin break and the red fluid start to seep along his tongue, but he couldn't help it, this was the end! Whatever the outcome.

Lightyear's legs rocked violently, he stared his trainer down, making a silent promise with Stane, this would not be his ending. All their efforts and time for naught. Lightyear wobbled toward samurott, the two pokemon narrowing fierce eyes at each other.

And then- he fell. Like a heavy tower toppling over, a tree whose life had just given out. He fainted. The arena fell silent, the crowd gasped in hushed whispers, hand over mouth. How the mighty had fallen.

Samurott was defeated! Lightyear won! Stane jumped over the arena's railing and grasped Lightyear in the tightest hug they had ever shared.

"The winner!" Rosa declared, holding her arm out toward Stane.

Tears stained his cheeks, Stane was Unova's champion!

"We both are," he told Lightyear. "Thank you."

Stane left the arena with Lightyear hanging on his back. Both were easily excitable, and they had a right to be. Years of training and struggle had given the both of them this opportunity, this victory. Stane could hardly imagine his life without electivire, who had arrived to him as an eager elekid. Some kid from Johto sought one of the rare Unova pokemon, they wanted a snivy, and that had been the starter Stane chose when he was eleven.

So he accepted the trade, for an equally rare elekid; all those years, and Stane never would have guessed he would find such a companion in a traded pokemon. They loved each other, they were family.

But their greatest challenge was still ahead; There was a woman who had started in her home region, Sinnoh, traversed to Hoenn, then Johto, and finally Kanto. This girl was the reigning champion of the National Pokemon League, she was an icon, but she hadn't faced anyone from Unova yet. And Stane was going to find her, and defeat her!

….To Be Continued


	5. Chapter 5

"Unboundedness"

Wendy Meadows freed herself from the hustle of media and paparazzi by hiding here. The gusts of wind were almost overwhelming, but hauntingly silent. Nary a pidgey graced the skies atop this hazardous dwelling. It was solitude, it was tranquility. The young girl of eighteen had strategically cut down both the Johto and Kanto regional Pokemon Leagues, she had overcame the grueling tropics of Hoenn, and the stark, stabbing winters of her homeland, Sinnoh. Wendy had just become a legend, and was the latest mascot of the National Pokemon League. She hated it.

"I know why you came here," Wendy said aloud, unbinding her red hair from the tight knot she wrapped it in. Her wavy locks fell just past her shoulders and were caught in the wind, the chilling breeze reminded her of home, of Sinnoh.

There was no one with Wendy, save for her feraligator that she had named Fergi. And she had curled herself up behind a large boulder, braving the uncomfortable harsh weather at the peak of the mountain. Wendy had trekked for days, through sleet and snow, and hordes of aggressive, starved pokemon fighting for a fresh meal. She made it and howled with glee; The summit of Mount Silver.

Her thoughts drifted back to legends of the mythical trainer the pokemon league called Red, a nickname from when he was just a boy. No one had seen him for over ten years, after becoming the reigning champion of the pokemon league he vanished. Leaving his title to the second rate dragon trainer Lance. Wendy had no sympathy for the older man who achieved little since, he never earned the Champion title. He didn't deserve it. Red would have become the star of the pokemon league, it was him that Wendy should have fought. Instead it was a nobody, worse than Lance.

The young woman gritted her teeth, she was suppose to be ecstatic, instead she was bored. This hadn't been her dream adventure. For whatever reason, success felt empty. Wendy leaned against the boulder Fergi was hiding behind and closed her eyes, allowing the silence and cold to glide over her.

She rolled up the sleeves of her green button down shirt and slid her thumbs into those two front pockets that rested on either side of her jeans. Wendy knew she couldn't stay up here forever. But she would immerse herself in this realm of unfettered nature while there was still time.

Ringing, the silence was broken by the all-too familiar jingle of Wendy's faithful iDex, the latest incarnation of the PokeDex. She reached into her rear pocket and pulled out a green cased device; at four inches high and a little over two inches across, this was easily the most compact and helpful tool distributed by the pokemon league. The touch screen flickered with the notification that Wendy was receiving a call, unfortunately it was from her manager.

"I actually get signal?" So much for solitude.

Wendy growled and touched the green answer button. "What?" she asked tiredly.

"Mail arrived for you at the hotel," she told Wendy.

"Jeez," Wendy grumbled. "What happened to the convenience of e-mail?"

"Shall I open it?"

"Who's it from?" Wendy wondered.

"No name, but it came from the Unova region."

Wendy's eyes lit up. "I'll open it when I get there."

"Very well."

The young woman hung up the call and bit her bottom lip out of excitement and curiosity. The Unova region; it had been nearly frozen over a few years back. It was a media frenzy after the feds got involved. She wondered; what did it have in store for her? Wendy's heart skipped a beat.

She rolled over the boulder but floundered the landing because of her quivering legs. She was so nervous. No name? Who could it be? Hopefully not a creepy, disgruntled fan. That would suck something terribly. It had to mean something! Finally, the drive Wendy sought.

Poor Fergi was startled awake and stretched out her jaw in a long, huffed yawn.

"We gotta go, girl," Wendy claimed anxiously, pushing gently at her feraligator.

"Momma's got a new gig."

Wendy had wrapped her flowing hair back into a tight, curt bun and buried it beneath her cap. The risen sun cast thick shadows hiding her sapphire eyes, and more than that, hopefully her identity. Saffron City was the largest city in Kanto, the streets were always bustling, and the popular gym was often overwhelmed with lines. She would easily brush through the streets undetected.

The young woman carefully navigated through a roaring crowd that had amassed outside Silph Co., apparently there had been several odd malfunctions generated by a possible electromagnetic pulse. But Wendy didn't care about that, she craved her letter. For the mystery to be solved.

Eventually she arrived at the hotel she was staying at and covertly strolled through the main hall toward her elevator. Security was still tight at Saffron, even years after Rocket's attack, so she required a security card to reach her floor. Pulling it from her pocket Wendy swiped it in the scanner and proceeded to enter her room number as confirmation. There was a click of success, and the elevator began its ascent.

She tapped comfortingly at one of the six pokeballs hooked around her belt. "I'll get you out of there soon, Fergi," she whispered, knowing her pokemon did not enjoy long stays inside the strange space. Unfortunately she couldn't help it, everyone would recognize her teal colored, blue spiked feraligator.

Her elevator bumped and Wendy's stomach twisted in nauseated protest. These rides always upset her for a moment. After the abrupt shake, the doors parted and Wendy darted down the hall to her room; three-forty-three. Another scan of her card and the door whisked itself open.

She scrambled into her messy room as the door hissed closed, the mail was organized carefully atop the dresser near her bathroom. She picked up the pile and eagerly scanned through it, toss aside anything that wasn't from Unova. It was mostly fan mail garbage. She knew it was awful to feel that way, but Wendy was annoyed by the mindless praise or empty threats of challenge. It's not like these trainers were down every corner waiting for a battle. That was absurd.

The news played in the background, she had left on her television, as letters were slowly scattered along the floor. News spoke of an earthquake just outside Icirrus City; apparently two days ago there had been a disaster at one of the berry farms- Wait, what? Wendy cocked her head curiously toward the news, momentarily distracted. She quickly hit the off button and returned to her search.

Finally!

Hidden near the end of the pile, no return address, simply from the Unova region. She pondered if it could be connected, the news and the letter, but that was simply impossible, why would someone be seeking out her for what sounded like a conspiracy, or cover up. Seriously, a berry farm tremor?

Wendy shook her head and ripped the envelope at its elegantly stamped seal. She yanked out the letter and carelessly discarded the envelope. Falling toward the bed, Wendy landed flat on her stomach and kicked up her feet. She unfolded the letter and read it eagerly;

_Wendy-_

_I hope this finds you well. What you are about to read is for your eyes only. You have found boundless success as a gifted and powerful trainer, the relationship you share with your pokemon is therefore strong and sturdy. We often times seek individuals like you out; those select few who harbor a great passion in this world. Perhaps, together, we can aim that passion at something more productive than holding your aimless title._

_We've been watching, and I personally know how empty such a life is for someone like you in the league. So, maybe you'll take a chance, like I did, and leave it all behind. Vanish. Know that if you make this choice, no one can know. You simply won't exist. If you'll agree to these terms, take the first ship to Unova, and I will find you._

There was no proper signature, only a lemniscate emboldened in red. She wondered- but no, she couldn't entertain such thoughts. This was a real opportunity, and would only be hindered by ridiculous fantasies. Wendy threw herself off the bed and absent-mindedly left the personal letter to fall beneath her bed.

She tapped at the pokeball again. "Only a little while longer."

With a renewed flame, Wendy stealthily peeked out of her room, the hall was empty. She dashed away, leaving everything from her successful world behind. All for a chance, for a risk. Wendy Meadows disappeared that day. She was finally unbound, and free to embrace her greatest opportunity, her most dangerous challenge.

….To Be Continued


	6. Chapter 6

"Unstoppable Force"

The sun was setting on what was certainly going to be one of the strangest days in young Greg Hughes life. At least for now, anyway. Faint orange rays of sunlight peeked between moody clouds, fading and swimming across the site as the clouds moved in the sky. That's what the three rangers had called it; the site. Ominous and foreboding as it was, it surely drove Greg's imagination mad with speculation.

His backyard had turned into some kind of wild conspiratorial cover up; a large, faintly shimmering metal plate had been laid over the sunken ground after the debris of beams and girders were cleaned away. Then, a layer of dirt was poured over his great discovery. The truth was literally buried before his eyes. Whatever remained of the massive complex, and he was certain something remained, had been sealed away beneath a nigh impenetrable force. It would have taken something unstoppable to pierce its hold.

Under his mother's instructions, Greg had pulled the water hose out and was spraying himself down. His mom had stated he was far too dirty to step inside for a shower. So, he needed to be cleaner before he could actually get clean. Moms had a way of making sense of that, he did not. Nor did his father, who wondered why the boy couldn't just go on inside and avoid more trouble while the rangers worked, but she held her ground. Greg was pleased, though, it meant he could observe and identify what his dad was hiding. Unfortunately he came up short.

Turning off the water, Greg dropped the hose into as tight of a bunch he could manage and struck his hand through his damp brown hair. He splayed the grass with splashes of water before finally bending his upper body over and shaking his whole self to release the loose water from his slim, pale, and glistening frame.

Greg straightened himself out and blinked away the water from his eyes and focused awkwardly on the site. His mouth contorted into a squished pair of lips and he was depressed. Or, upset. He felt something negative, something he couldn't quite figure out himself. An unyielding curiosity that demanded answers, and without any it made him sick. He was obsessed.

With himself as clean as he was going to get, Greg spun on his heels and decided to trek back inside for a warm shower. The afternoon breeze was chilling his freshly washed body. Luckily his shirt was somewhat dry, he had rinsed it first, and so he threw it on over his head. It felt icky, sticking to his body and he worried the chill might allow his nipples to show through. He desperately did not want to wade through a kitchen full of rangers with a nipple show going on.

Greg shook his head of the paranoia and slowed his ascent up the porch stairs when he heard the voices of his father and the ranger.

"-And it was an isolated incident," the ranger argued.

"It was reckless, he could have stirred something down there," Nathan stated, concerned.

"Nate, you've got a clever boy," the ranger noted.

Nathan shook his head dismissively and shushed the ranger when he saw his son approaching. Greg waved and smiled awkwardly, the boy felt like he should have started whistling nonchalantly, but that felt too on the nose. Instead, he spun and set his bottom at the top of the porch stairs. Maybe he would relax here for a bit, enjoy the scenery. He was not trying to eavesdrop on his father, that's what he would argue anyway.

Greg smiled proudly; he was clever. He laid his arms out along his risen knees and sat confidently. He was quite cold, you could see his nipples through his shirt if you looked, he had nearly destroyed his backyard, and his father was infuriated. But it all mattered, he had unearthed something, there was no hiding it, no erasing memories with fancy pens or psychic pokemon. Wait, could a pokemon even erase someone's memory?

The boy shook his head, he was getting distracted. As he had gotten older, Greg became more and more confused with what to do with his life, what was he suppose to be when he became an adult, but here, now, he felt a surge of energy, perhaps an epiphany. But he didn't know what to do with it, all he knew was that he had never been more excited or courageous in his life. That had to stand for something.

Suddenly Debbie pranced across Greg, she was heading out. He waved at her, but she shook her head and raised it in an expression of snotty ignorance to his presence.

"I said I was sorry," Greg muttered, dropping his arm.

He sighed heavily and leaned forward. Besides Stane, these pokemon were really his only friends, he certainly felt bad that he endangered Debbie, but it honestly never crossed his mind something so terrible would befall from all of this. It was a mess, he knew that. He knew he was going to be in some type of trouble when the rangers left, he just didn't know what.

"You caused quite the commotion," the ranger from before said.

Greg jumped from the abrupt spook and tensed up instinctively. He looked up and half grinned at the grimy, wavy haired man who was holding a cap between his two hands. This kind of burst of random social interaction made Greg uncomfortable. He was out of his safe zone here.

"And no one will ever know, will they?" Greg asked aggressively.

The ranger smiled. "They won't. Officially, this little disaster was caused by those tremors." The boy was bright.

Greg looked at him with a narrowed, dismissive look. The news had probably already picked up the story and would be spoon feeding it to every average, ignorant little fool who would eat it up. Greg gritted his teeth. The tremors were caused by whatever happened down there, but it didn't matter. He couldn't argue it.

The boy shook his head and looked back out toward his yard, focused again on the site. His dad's ranger friend leaned down beside him. Greg decided not to pay him any mind, maybe he would get the drift and go on. He did not.

"Listen; you went into this head first, and the results weren't very subtle, or very pretty," the ranger explained. "But a force like yours, that's something to be reckoned with; you can't stop it."

Greg looked at the ranger awkwardly; was he implicating that the boy should keep pushing? The ranger only winked and smiled.

"I want you to have this," the ranger offered Greg the gray cap he had been holding between his hands. A peace offering perhaps.

Greg carefully took it from the man's hands and carefully inspected it; a lambda was etched into the front center of the cap, Greg curiously traced his finger along the greek letter. What a unique symbol. The ranger patted Greg on the back and stood up, he gave the boy one last glance before turning toward his waiting comrades. Greg peeked a glance back and wondered if he would ever see the man again.

The boy's heart was racing, he looked back over the site with a renewed passion and energy. He couldn't be stopped, soon his parents wouldn't be able to keep him from digging. His hands proudly gripped the hat, something was done there. And whatever path might lie ahead of him, Greg knew it was buried in his own backyard….

The ruined complex was in shambles, the last of the working lights were slowly fading away, giving up to the encroaching darkness. Support beams had been scattered like building blocks along the smooth stone earth. It was an incredible, glimmering sight of possibility.

Remarkably, even with all the destruction and chaos, the monitoring system still beeped faintly, recording the slow, steady heart rate of the complex's host. The wires from this system trailed along the dusty sheet of metal that acted as the floor. Awkwardly leaning over, upended by the force of tremors, was the capsule. Inside, in quiet suspension-

Condensation!

On the glass of the capsule, a sudden huff of condensation. The lone monitor's beeps heightened, the smooth, calm lines turned erratic as a protracted hiss escaped from the capsule. The lone lemniscate seal had been fragmented, and the breath of life filled the potential tomb.

As the last light was enveloped by shadow, a pair of glowing eyes illuminated the lab. Faint breaths became panicked upon realization, the monitor rang in response. It had been revived.

REVIVAL


End file.
